How about cards?
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
When we first came back to Ramona, we learned to play 10-point pitch. We thought of it as the "official town game," because we only played it in Ramona. About the time we thought we had it all down, we'd head back to California and forget about pitch until the next year when the process would start all over again. "Let's see, do we have this right? A three is worth two and a two is worth one and kings and queens don't count for anything?"
Ninety-six-year-old Aunt Anna is quite a formidable pitch player. She learned to play when she was 10. "Whenever the folks would go into town, us kids would gather around the table and play pitch — I don't know why we did it then. We just knew that now was the time!" Aunt Anna smiles at the memory.
Playing pitch is quite a Schubert family tradition. Our great-grandparents used to even play double-handed pitch when there was just the two of them. We'd like to know how they did it. I've tried to get the hang of Pinochle to no avail. I asked my cousin Keith how he learned to play. "I used to go to Betty's Cafe and watch the guys," he said. "When it finally got to the point where I'd watch Stubby Berger make a move and I knew he was wrong, I knew I'd gotten the hang of it."
Keith told me there was always a group of guys at one of the cafes in town playing cards — especially if it rained. "The guys would come into town — Ben Brunner, Fuzzy Beisel, Warren Fike, Ralph Bernhardt, Leon Bura — it wasn't difficult to get a large enough group to play a game.
It seems they used to have "Turkey Shoots" connected to these games, according to my cousins. There weren't any turkeys shot at all. It was more like a card game playing for a HAM. "Sometimes it was even a live duck," Keith recalls. "You should ask Betty." So, I did! She said, "Oh, well, we did this once a year — it was a pre-holiday thing. There'd be eight people playing pitch and the winner got his choice of a picnic ham or four pounds of bacon. One time we tried live ducks, but that was extra work." Extra work or not, the event was memorable! "Sometimes Alice Lorei made beirrock that we sold at our card games — that would mean an extra big night with 50 or 60 people in the restaurant and tables even set up in the back room." Ramona was hopping! "It was a lot of work and a lot of fun," Betty chuckles, "But then I was young and being young was a lot of fun, too."
Saturday night, some cousins were in town. "Do you want to learn a new card game?" we asked. Friends who stayed at Cousin's Corner (our bed and breakfast in Ramona) had taught us a game called "Head and Foot." Complicated at first, we soon learned the rules and became addicts. It's now our game of choice on cold winter evenings.
With cousins in tow, we headed to our office at the bank building — lest we keep other guests at the B&B awake. Who won or lost didn't really seem to matter. We laughed at our misfortunes and celebrated our triumphs whether it was in real life or the card game. The office clock struck midnight before we were finished. Ramona's midnight train stood waiting on the tracks for permission to move on to Herington. Reluctantly, we braved the cold and headed home. The automatic timers on the Christmas lights in town were still on. I hadn't won the card game but I'd just spent an evening with people that I love.
The crisp night air was ablaze with color and Christmas Cheer! Life is GOOD! I picked up the winning hand when I decided to spend another day in the country.
